


Shadow Cast

by ProfessorDrarry



Series: Drarry One Shot [11]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Rocky Horror Picture Show References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:47:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22980460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorDrarry/pseuds/ProfessorDrarry
Summary: Harry invited Draco for...reasons. Draco dressed as Rocky for...similar reasons. And the reason they are both standing here, unable to stop staring at each other? That they haven't quite worked that one out.Yet.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Drarry One Shot [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1227995
Comments: 5
Kudos: 44





	Shadow Cast

**Author's Note:**

> * this drabble is gonna make significantly more sense if you are at least sorta familiar with Rocky Horror, Shadow Casts, and Tim Curry**

Act One

“Oh my God. I hate you. I’m going to… I’m going to… I’m…”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you’re going to what, Potter? I’m standing here dying of utter anticipation.”

At this statement, Harry smirked. Not because Draco was being particularly amusing, but because his mind was suddenly filled with Saturday night and fishnets and toast and kissing strangers. _Anticipation_ , indeed.

He needed to change tactics. This was not what he’d had in mind when he’d waltzed into Draco’s office to demand he take his midnight shift on Saturday next. Of course, what came out of his mouth next hadn’t been either.

“Draco, do you have plans on Saturday night?” he said suddenly, hit with an idea that had never occurred to him.

To be fair, that was Malfoy’s fault; he was sitting behind the big counter of the lab in a red satin button up, the top two buttons loose and his blonde hair wild from being hunched over a cauldron all morning. He looked so very much like Riff in this moment that the idea was organic and feeing. Harry could practically feel the moment when Draco would let go of the tension in his shoulders when he’d understand how to scream asshole at the screen at the right moment. How he’d lean into Harry and…

“Of course I have plans, Potter. I am not, therefore, taking you’re overnight shift.”

“Not why I was asking,” Harry shrugged. “Just wondered if you’d ever been to the Blueberry.”

“The Blueberry?” Draco deadpanned.

“I was gonna get Mathis to cover my shift, and you aren’t on call, and you should come with my friend’s and I to our Saturday thing. It’s fun. You’ll enjoy it. You need to get out of this lab.”

Malfoy’s mouth hung open for a moment. He looked down at the bench. He gulped.

“Yeah, alright,” he sighed. “You… do I need to bring anything?”

“No,” Harry replied, grinning beautifully. “But it’s more fun if you dress up. Ask Pansy to help you. She’ll know what to do.”

“Why am I already regretting this,” Draco sighed, closing his eyes and staring at the ceiling.

Harry laughed. “Honestly? Probably 10% the fact that it’s me that’s asking, and 90% the regret of agreeing to go to Rocky Horror for the first time. Deep breath. You’re going to love it.”

Harry strolled out of the lab grinning. It wasn’t until he was halfway back to the emergency ward that he realised how badly he’d fucked up.

In less than 24 hours, Draco Malfoy, who he’d sort of fancied since the first year of training, was going to see him in fishnets, a garter, and his handmade, brocade-and-silk scarlet finery. The corset was his pride and joy.

He just hadn’t considered what it meant to let people from work see him in it.

* * *

Act Two

“Why am I doing this?”

“You know why you’re doing this.”

“I’m going to put the other outfit on. I can’t go out like this.”

“Okay. Up to you. Only…”

“What?”

“You have the hair.”

“Pansy.”

“And you look _hot_.”

“Why the fuck did he even invite me!”

“Must be a bunch of people going. Probably just trying to be nice. Don’t be an ass. It won’t help your case.”

“Is this you trying to convince me to go out _mostly_ naked? Because you’re bad at it.”

“I don’t care either way if I’m honest.” Punctuating her point, Pansy stuck a lifesaver in her mouth and held out Draco’s trench coat. “You’re going to be late.”

XXX

Harry looked at the garter clip one more time, adjusted his necklace, and convinced himself that he looked good. Good enough that he’d get away without full makeup. He was working his way up to that, but for now, the fishnets were enough to deal with.

“Get a grip, Potter,” he told the mirror. “You like this thing. You don’t care one way or another if he shows up. You look good. Get going.”

XXX

The line was already snaking around the corner by the time Harry got there. He hopped up and down on his black pumps, trying to stay warm. A few people wolf-whistled, a couple complimented his legs. The corset was his show stopper and it was hidden. He stayed calm as he waited. It was 25 minutes before a very small looking Draco Malfoy traipsed by.

“Draco!” he called cheerily, all the tension in his head released. He was the one who knew how to do this. He was in charge. He was happy he’d invited Draco.

“Nice hair,” Draco said, his genuine tone sincere. “How long do we have to do this. It’s fucking freezing.”

“We’re already heading in. Don’t worry.” Harry noted his bare legs with as much masked interest as he could. The long coat he wore offered just enough intrigue to make it difficult to hide.

“Where is everyone?” Draco asked calmly.

Harry panicked. “Every-I mean, I’ll usually find some friends inside and stuff but…fuck, Draco, sorry, I didn’t mean to imply this was like…a group thing?”

Draco eyed him as though at first, he didn’t believe him. His face shifted a moment later to what Harry knew it would. He was about to ask Harry why he’d been invited then, and Harry didn’t have an answer ready.

XXX

Draco swallowed. Harry had a large, fake pearl necklace peeking out of the collar of his coat. His collarbone was bare and jutting out. There was little doubt in his mind who Harry had come dressed as. He’d only watched this bizarre movie for the first time an hour ago, he knew a sweet transvestite when he saw one.

A _very_ sweet one, who was blushing in the streetlights and panicking. It made Draco’s own neck warm and he looked away. Harry had no more idea why Draco was here than he did. It was almost comforting.

“No worries,” he replied to Harry’s implied question. “I’m excited. I don’t get to dress up often enough.”

Harry deflated in relief as the line brought them finally to the door. Draco, at the prompting of the ushers, unbuttoned his coat.

XXX

Draco had come as Rocky. Harry hadn’t found his jaw or tongue since that had been revealed. There had always been a chance, technically, what with the blonde hair. But everything about Draco screamed buttoned-up prude, and Harry hadn’t even dared think about it.

Until he could think of nothing else. Gold hot pants, bronzer on his pecs. It wasn’t until he saw these things that Harry noticed the white boots. He should have looked. He would have been more prepared.

“Okay stop,” Draco finally snapped as they found seats in between a large group in the middle of the theatre. “I feel stupid enough without your shock.”

“W-what?” Harry stuttered.

“I look ridiculous. You don’t have to rub it in. You, sitting there practically a carbon fucking copy of Frank with your impossibly perfect corset and your hair. I get it. I’m not Rocky. Pansy made me.”

Harry literally choked on his own spit trying to back up the conversation. He grabbed Draco by the shoulders right before he could sit and spun him around to face the aisle.

“Draco,” he muttered, going as close as he dared to Draco’s ear. “See how many people are gawking at you right now? I promise you, it’s not because you look ‘ridiculous’. You’re fucking perfect. I could put you on stage if I was willing to share. Trust me. You look amazing.”

“I—” Draco replied faintly. “Ok, well… Ok.”

They sat down and for the next ten minutes of intro music, said nothing and refused to look at each other.

Draco was very much aware of how tiny his pants were.

* * *

Act Three

Luckily for both of them, the opening notes of the shadow cast introduction began and they stood in their seats as everyone around them settled down. Well, not down. No one really did anything calmly at a Rocky night. It was basically his favourite thing about the theatre. The jeering and the swearing. The complete lack of any propriety. **  
**

Tonight, there was tension in his shoulders. What the fuck he had been thinking by inviting Draco Malfoy, king of proper and buttoned-up wit, he would never know. He held his breath through the Virgin announcement, waiting for Draco to storm out. A part of his brain did realise that as Draco was standing beside him nearly naked, there was likely more to him than he currently knew.

An intriguing thought, he had to admit. 

Draco turned to him when the on-stage Brad called for the virgins in the audience to do a quick hip thrust. The look on his face was mirth mixed with intrigue, and as he put his hands on his hips and shoved his hips forward, his eyebrow rose. Harry’s brain short-circuited for the second time in twenty minutes as Draco laughed and let the ridiculous pose drop.  
  
“You know,” Draco said in that loud, low whisper people reserved for loud places, “I didn’t think it was going to be possible to lose my virginity again, but I have to admit, I’m already enjoying this immensely.”  
  
The grin he wore was wicked, and Harry quickly realised he had made a grave miscalculation. Draco Malfoy was _fun_. Not only was he fun, but he was also laid back, adventurous, and downright _cheeky_. And, Harry was suddenly absolutely certain, he was gay as the day was long. 

Now Harry usually refrained from making this assumption; his ‘gay-dar’ was not good. He’d been informed of this by enough people to make him sheepish. But as giant red lips took to the screen, and the people in fishnets on stage started gyrating ridiculously, Harry was so positive that he had made the right call inviting Draco here, of all places, that he grinned a huge grin. 

Draco knew at least half of the things people were shouting. He had a fairly decent memory and Pansy had made him study before coming so he didn’t make a complete fool of himself. He probably would have been doing better at the remembering if Harry weren’t glued to him like a strange, extra-sticky magnet. Even when he wasn’t looking straight at him — rare, if the number of side glances he’d managed was any indication — Harry’s body seemed to be connected to him. Draco could have been imagining it, of course, but it was very difficult to ignore either way. 

XXX

The Time Warp brought Draco back to reality. He laughed the entire time he did the ridiculous dance. He hadn’t been so happy in a long, long time. This place was electric, addictive. Everyone knew the rules, everyone knew the steps. No one cared who you were or who your father was. No one was questioning whether or not you were throwing your life away, or if you should be further along since you were technically an adult with Responsibilities. All they cared about was if you remembered to call Janet a slut and if you were having fun. 

He threw himself into the pelvic thrust, let his legs go to jelly when his knees fell in tight, and positively went insane. The last chorus found him out of breath and laughing like a lunatic. He turned to Harry to share his joy and found Harry staring, mouth agape, similarly out of breath. His chest above the corset was red and flushed, the wig on his head was slightly askew, and the wildness that stood in front of him made Draco’s heart stop beating in his chest. 

On the stage behind him, the audience was being introduced to their evening’s Frank N Furter, a tall man who was clearly ginger beneath all the black hair dye. Draco didn’t notice. The audience was shouting “Say it, Frankie, Say it” before he even managed to move again, breaking eye contact with Harry as his eyes instead shifted down his chest. He took a deep breath. Now or never passed through his mind, which was ridiculous, obviously. 

Still, he threw himself forward. 

XXX

Harry wondered, not for the first time, if Draco Malfoy were actually capable of reading minds. He’d been staring at him, gasping for breath, for almost an entire song. His body was frozen, completely incapable of forward motion, as it wrestled with the possibilities. On the one hand, they were surrounded by people who would not give a flying fuck if he positively ravaged this man in front of them. There were no coworkers or tricky history or friends to judge. If not now, then when? On the other hand, finding someone attractive was not a good enough reason to kiss them. Draco had never quite shown anything but indifference to Harry, but he was also standing here shirtless, staring right back. 

Before he worked out what side of this internal battle he was going to land on, Draco had reached out, taken Harry’s hand, and pulled him close, until their chests were flush and their height difference unimportant. 

“I’m going to kiss you now, unless you stop me. You can stop me, of course, but I don’t think I can deny that I want this much longer. You’re killing me slowly with that corset.” 

Harry opened his mouth to— do what, he didn’t know. “That’s your fault,” he said instead. “I want to do far more than kiss you when you are standing in front of me fully dressed for work. I haven’t been able to think since you showed me your costume.”  
  
“Why am I here,” Harry?” Draco whispered in his ear. “Am I here for this?” 

He trailed his hands down the boning in Harry’s ribs, tugging the bottom edge of the corset as he went. “Or is it for this?” he asked, stroking his fingers over the pearl beads and therefore brushing Harry’s clavicle. “Or is it for that?” he said gesturing vaguely. “Because I’ll tell you what. I’m here. I don’t have much beyond that. I’m here and I don’t know why, and if you don’t kiss me soon, I might lose my nerve.”  
  
Harry moved so fast that he knocked Draco back, unused to his high boxer’s boots. Harry grasped him by the hips and held him close, his mouth ghosting over Draco’s lips. He’d wanted this for so long. It was unreal that it was going to happen. He let himself slow down. The noise settled to a din as Draco’s hands ghosted on his back. 

Then, he gave in. 

Their neighbours whooped and catcalled, and a second later, they were pelted with bits of water leftover from the rain scene. 

Neither of them much noticed. 

\- END - 

**Author's Note:**

> This self-indulgent ficlet is dedicated to my Rocky family, who quite literally saved my 16-year-old life. At a time when the world was not as accepting of weird or off-centre, the Rocky shadow nights were a place of solace. For the first time, I saw accepted, open-air, non-traditional, non-hetero relationships. A few of my shadow fam are now in hilarious 9-5 jobs with 2.5 kids. A few have managed to stay weird. A few are no longer with us. I love every one of them still. And every day, I am grateful that smartphones were not yet a thing when I was in high school, and there are therefore no photos of me at a show…  
> Embrace your weird, kids. 
> 
> Love, PD


End file.
